


Remembrance

by kampix



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, M/M, Songfic, kind of, mention of canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:41:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kampix/pseuds/kampix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd once made a promise to Ianto and fully intended to keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this fic entirely on John Barrowman's cover of "A Thousand Years" and on the headcanon my mind made up when I heard it. It also means, unfortunately, that I do not in fact own the lyrics that appear in this fic.

A figure, lit only by a setting sun and a few street lights that illuminated the area, walked slowly down the darkening streets of a residential district in Cardiff, seeming at the same time like it was completely out of place and also like it had always been part of the surroundings. While going on their way, if anyone were to have brushed past the man at that time, for that's what the figure was, maybe they would have heard him mumble softly to himself, the air surrounding him filled with remnants of a song learned long ago and now half forgotten.

The stranger continued on his way, but suddenly stopped, looking back at a flower shop that stood on the corner of the street he'd just crossed and he backtracked, almost as an afterthought, as if he'd suddenly remembered he needed something.

The shop owner had obviously been closing since it was getting late after all, but didn't really want to turn down a customer and so he let him in anyway. The man flashed him a smile and asked for a single gladiolus flower, confidence and ease emanating from his body language, though if one were to have looked in his eyes, they would have seen the absence that reigned there, as if their owner had lost a piece of himself and knew there was no hope of getting it back.

Without uttering another word, the stranger paid for the flower and left, holding it with great care in his hand and was once more mumbling to himself, almost silently this time, as if not to disturb the quiet atmosphere that could be felt outside the shop.

He crossed the empty street and took a turn on his right, now walking along a narrow dirt path and went towards the gate of the old looking, but well-kept cemetery that stood a bit further down the road.

Once the gate closed behind him, he headed towards a particular headstone with the air of someone that had done this routine all his life and yet, at the same time, he took in the view around him absent mindedly, like someone wanting to recall their environment as they set foot somewhere new.

The man reached out with a head, now in front of a slab of dark stone, resting it on top of the cold surface and taking in a deep breath before kneeling in front of it. There, on the soft grass, he carefully placed the gladiolus before brushing his fingers over the name engraved in the stone.

It read: "Ianto Jones" and the man, still kneeling before the headstone, breathed deeply again, but couldn't stop himself from shaking slightly as he fought to hold back his emotions and then started to sing softly all he could recall of the song he'd recited earlier, though his voice was now wavering.

"...I have died every day waiting for you  
Darling don't be afraid I have loved you  
For a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you  
Time has brought your heart to me  
I have loved you for a thousand years  
I'll love you for a thousand more..."

And as the night slowly wore on in Cardiff, Jack stayed, his eyes closed and his back pressed against the headstone, wanting to spend once more the quiet of the night next to Ianto.


End file.
